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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27823780">lypophrenia</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Echalion/pseuds/Echalion'>Echalion</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series), Good Omens (TV), Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Bratty bottom Crowley, Demon Ricky Goldsworth, Demon Shane Madej, Friendship, I based Shane's wings off of Maleficent's wings, It's about to get bloody, M/M, Other, Poor Ryan, Poor Shane, Ryan Bergara &amp; Shane Madej Friendship, Ryan Bergara is a Wizard, Sassy Aziraphale is something I live for, Shane Madej is Self-Destructive, Top Aziraphale (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 08:40:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,629</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27823780</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Echalion/pseuds/Echalion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>lypophrenia (n.):</p>
<p> a vague feeling of sorrow or sadness seemingly without any apparent cause or source.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Castiel/Dean Winchester, Ryan Bergara &amp; Shane Madej</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. a snowball's chance</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The characters Shane Madej and Ryan Bergara are based on real people, but this fanfiction isn't based on the 'real' them, only the online persona they put on for the online webseries they run. Dude, please don't harass them over this or something. </p>
<p>They're real people.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Shane crashed through the open woods, groaning quietly as he struggled to get to his feet, charcoal black blood dripping from every limb. He could feel the bones in his leg shift, clearly fractured, grinding against each other as he struggled to walk. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...Fuck. Fuck, fuck fuck.” He whispered frantically, with a weak smile, giving an empty chuckle as if he’d heard a joke, it slowly fading into a bloody cough. He wondered what Ryan would think, seeing him. Seeing a random demon figure in the woods with black eyes, and crow-like wings, struggling for safety. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’d probably lose his shit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wheezed quietly at that thought, his eyes glazing over slightly as he slid down a tree, holding his bleeding stomach. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hell wasn’t a nice place. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’d never be a nice place, would it? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He barely noticed the two distinct figures making their way over, alarm in both their eyes. The one wearing a leather jacket just stood by, silent, like he didn’t exactly know what to do, but he looked like he was equally panicked and anxious as the very posh sounding man next to him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh dear.” The shorter one said, walking slowly, before increasing his pace. “Oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>dear</span>
  </em>
  <span>, are you alright?” His words came out rushed, flustered by the sudden sight of a mortally wounded demon, his brows furrowing as his shoulders rose. He could practically hear the soft man’s feathers ruffle.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> He was not alright. He was the complete opposite of alright. Literally, nothing about this was alright. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was dying.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shane’s eyes widened, blinking as he hazily watched the man kneel next to him, putting his gentle hands on his shoulders, delicately, like he was made of paper. Just before the man did anything, the one in the leather jacket cried out, clearly alarmed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“DON’T!” The softer one jumped, pausing as his head snapped to the more jaded looking one. “He’s a demon, angel. That’s going to hurt.” His words sounded panicked, as if he knew from experience. He was silent for a short moment, thinking, before striding towards him, adjusting his sunglasses, and rolling up his jacket sleeves. “Here, let me do it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He put his hands on Shane’s shoulders, which made him give a quiet yelp, hissing slightly through his teeth. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Shane whispered hoarsely, clearly writhing in pain. “Crowley!” The softer one said, accusingly, without any malice, but concern dripping from his tone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The man wearing a leather jacket jerked his hands away, clearly looking guilty and slightly anxious, before taking a breath gently placing his hands back on his shoulders, clearly attempting to copy the blonde one’s previous grip. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He gave a quiet sigh, before warmth slowly pulsated through his hands, a distinct smell of sulfur and ash filling the air. Hellfire. It just clicked in his head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Demon. He was a demon.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was being healed by a demon.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The thought seemed to elude his mind, a bewildered expression taking hold of his face, his eyes wide as he rapidly blinked. Random acts of kindness weren’t exactly common in demons, unless there was a catch. As ‘Crowley’ slowly let go of his grip, Shane sat up, flexing his fingers, and rolling his shoulder, slightly stiff, unsure on what to say.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> “...Thanks, dude.” He said genuinely, giving a small smile, and a slight nod to him. He spent too much time on earth, hadn’t he? He wasn’t exactly sure what to make of his own kind. Had things changed down there? His wings weren’t healed though, but at least they healed enough that he wasn’t passing out  from blood loss. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, better get going then-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He tried to stand up, before he was hit by a sudden pang of dizziness, feeling lightheaded as he stumbled back to the ground with a hard thump. He made a quiet frustrated sigh. Ryan would really lose his shit at this, him stumbling over like a toddler. He could imagine his amused laugh so clearly he could’ve sworn he heard it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The softer one rushed to his side, carefully slinging Shane’s arm over his shoulder, exchanging a glance with the demon, a subtle nod before they all seemingly whirred into entirely another plane of existence without warning. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t know what to make of it, except, what he could describe it as was putting your five senses into a blender. Teleporting sucked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Though he couldn’t, he wanted so badly to throw up, to help get rid of the nausea. It felt like the worst rollercoaster ride he’s been on, except it only lasted a few seconds. He leaned heavily into the angelic being as they came to a sudden stop, warm lights and an ‘old-book’ smell flooding his senses. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“God-” He whispered, clearly unwell, as the angelic one looked fretful, wringing his fingers, before setting him down on a nearby chair, books lining the shelf behind him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I apologize, I should’ve warned you.” He admitted rather quickly. “Oh goodness, I forgot, I’m Cherub Aziraphale.” He held out a gentle looking hand. Aziraphale paused for a moment, looking to the side as if thinking before his eyes softening. “I’m an- angel.” He said, with a note of hesitance. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shane nodded, the nausea finally starting to wave off, but not completely. He wasn’t exactly surprised. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah I figured.” He joked, with a shrug and a grin. It wasn’t like angels to be civil with demons. Shane pinched the bridge of his nose. Ah, now he was getting a headache. “Demons don’t exactly have cherubs, and don’t apologize. I just have teleportation nausea sometimes. It just happens, don’t worry about it. And I’m-” He paused, trying to remember his real name, blinking. “I’m ex-Duke Madej. Retired. Just call me Shane.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale blinked, looking behind him as if questioning calling Crowley. He couldn’t help but notice how he seemed slightly more fidgety. Nervous. Tense. Shane would chuckle at his anxiety if Ryan was here, but laughing at him without Ryan to react to his antics would make it feel like a dick move. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Which it really was. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Duke?” That’s all Aziraphale could say at the moment, echoing him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The two stayed in each other’s tense silence before Shane leaned forward, towards him, holding a somewhat relaxed expression. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ex-duke. Just saying that again because personally... hell </span>
  <em>
    <span>sucks</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Earth is a lot better than staying down there, torturing people and doing… </span>
  <em>
    <span>paperwork</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He said, with a bit of faux venom in the voice at the very mention of it, before he briefly paused, realizing he was doing that voice he did with Ryan. Aziraphale let out a bell-like laugh. Shane continued, clearly appreciative of the positive affirmation. “Humanity’s great, better than a lot of us. You don’t need to worry about me, buddy, unless you’re going out and hurting humans.” He quipped as he gave a subtle eyebrow raise to Aziraphale, with a smirk, leaning a bit further. He was joking, of course. This guy didn’t look capable of hurting </span>
  <em>
    <span>anyone.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Heaven no!” He looked appalled, but still beamed at Shane’s teasing. “But, that reminds me of the time in the 1940’s-” He turned over his chair, looking deeper into the store, smiling. “Oh, Crowley, do you remember? The nazis? That woman was a nasty lady.” He commented, shaking his head at his own thought. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“‘Course I do. All of them went straight to hell.” He said, appearing around the corner Aziraphale was looking, holding a tray of what looked like wine glasses. “Never seen anything like it. Those sinful- Their souls even didn’t go up, not a centimeter, really- they just…” He whistled a descending tone, while clearing the table in front of the two of them and setting the three wine glasses on it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shane wheezed at his onamonapia, accidentally briefly grazing a wounded part of his wing against the back of his chair. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck-</span>
  </em>
  <span>” He hissed out, as Aziraphale quickly got up, jumping to his side, concern written on his face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Language.” He scolded lightly, though it didn’t seem too genuine. It sounded more like a reminder. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He helped him up, and with a distinct aura of the sea, and oranges, a wooden stool appeared. Shane got onto it, stretching slightly as he found the newfound space more comfortable, and he let out a content groan as he popped his back stretching. “Is it better?” Aziraphale asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Better. Thanks Az.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Crowley’s eyebrows raised at the nickname, but lowered just as quickly. He held the wine in his hand, sipping it. “So. What’s got you so-” He motioned to where Shane’s injuries previously were. “You know. That.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shane tilted his head. There was something so… snakelike about his movements. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Snake vibes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The way he never sat upright, or still in his chair. His human form laid over the chair so comfortably and so </span>
  <em>
    <span>naturally</span>
  </em>
  <span>, like a blanket. He couldn’t exactly put a pin on what gave him these vibes, but by the way he walked, it looked wobbly. Not in a bad way, but it gave off a wriggling strut, reminding him slightly of that AI that Google made, the AI that learned to walk on it’s own. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He snorted at his own thoughts.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shane gave a lazy shrug, taking a wine glass and drinking it. He let out a hum of satisfaction. He never really had an expensive palette, always favoring cancer meat and processed cheese over expensive wines but this was </span>
  <em>
    <span>good. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He muffled a chuckle, thinking about it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I made a lot of enemies. Like- a lot, a lot. They deserved what I did to them though, they’re always trying to scare those humans in the weirdest way possible. Like, come on dude. Just get a corporeal form. Wait- PFF- HA!” He gave out a single laugh, setting down his wine. “You know Goatman, right? His bridge?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, yes, I met him a while back.” Aziraphale said with a sigh.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Crowley’s brow raised, clearly surprised, if not a bit concerned. “You did?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A crude fellow. Always liked scaring those poor humans from that bridge. I don’t get it.” Aziraphale muttered, disapprovingly. Shane’s grin grew as he leaned back proudly, as if he’d achieved something noteworthy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I took it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The room was filled with silence, as Shane smiled in anticipation before it rang with laughter. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale found this hilarious, he was rolling in his seat as he struggled to regain his breath, and Crowley was chuckling himself. He looked at Aziraphale through his sunglasses, hoping he couldn’t see him staring, his eyes staying on his gleeful smile, with a curious tilted head. His eyes softened further, offering a soft smile himself, before becoming acutely aware of the other demon in his room, the smile forced off his face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shane found himself wheezing loudly, choking on his wine. It felt like a weight had been taken off his chest. As fun as it was to mess with Ryan, he really had no one to share his demonic achievements with, other than people online who jokingly thought he was a demon. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Must I say, he did deserve that. I heard he threw someone off once.” He said, taking a sip of his wine, the laughter dying down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He got really pissed afterwards. I heard that people are still going to the bridge and writing my name there.” Shane commented, still holding that proud smile of his. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I angered a lot of demons, like… the one at the Sallie House? I think I forgot her name, but she was pissed. When I was alone, they all jumped on me, and dragged me back down to hell. Apparently they’ve been like- banding together like a flock of birds. They’ve been planning on taking me down for a long time.” He said this as casually and lightly as he could, but it was clear the words had weight to it by the way his eyes seemed a little more empty than they did before.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The room went silent as Shane sipped his wine. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale and Crowley shared a look.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine by the way. Thanks for saving me back there. I was probably gonna discorporate. I’m not </span>
  <em>
    <span>traumatized</span>
  </em>
  <span> or anything, I did kinda deserve it, if I’m being completely honest, and I’ve gone through worse. I’m just worrying about a human friend of mine.” He tapped the edge of his wine glass lightly, a nervous tick he had. He looked at Aziraphale and Crowley. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He… I’ve been gone for a few months, and we usually hunt ghosts together. I protect him from rogue demons, and I’m just worried the guy got himself hurt somehow. You can’t expect what they’re gonna do.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We can help.” Aziraphale chimed in, reassuringly. He put a warm hand on his knee, setting his empty wine glass back on his tray. “But, you need to rest. Your friend is going to be alright.” He said, softly. What perplexed Shane was how genuine he sounded, and how he sounded like he actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>cared. </span>
  </em>
  <span>By how empathetic he sounded, he nearly made him believe him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale as a demon would be terrifying.</span>
</p><p> </p><p><span>Shane slowly nodded at him, before clearing his throat, looking at Crowley. “Hey, while I was duke, I never saw you around. Where the hell</span> <span>were you?”</span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The three seemed to talk for hours, eventually becoming drunk babbling, as it usually did. The tension was completely nonexistent. It’s almost as if Shane’s comedic laid-back energy seemed to help tie the loose stitches between the ‘gentle but slightly annoyed at times’ angel, and the ‘sometimes bratty but completely well-meaning’ demon.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> It wouldn’t be a lie that Shane fought Aziraphale over which line was better, ‘purple nurple’ or ‘tickety-boo.’ Crowley, of course, decided the latter, which made Shane yell ‘biased.’</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>From what Shane gathered from this night, was that he was the youngest out of the three. He was only 2,000 years old. He was fallen, of course, granted his wings, but he was what some people called a ‘late-faller.’ Even though he was rather late in the game, he found himself quickly climbing the ranks. Most demons down there were either insane, or broken, and he considered himself neither, so he found it within his capabilities to climb nearly effortlessly. He was one of the saner demons down there, and he guessed that made him special. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This ‘specialty’ didn’t stop Aziraphale and Crowley from poke fun at his age though, both resorting to teasingly calling him a fledgeling. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“C’mon guys-” Shane slurred, slightly embarrassed, though jovial moreso. He was glad everyone was having fun. “I’m only like four-thousand years-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fledgeling.” Crowley claimed, pacing, pointing an accusatory finger. “You’re a fledgling, that’s a fact. Your wings- Your wings are baby wings. Here- let me show you-” He said, slurring as well, before falling into the couch behind him. Surprisingly, he let his wings come into existence as it popped from his back, knocking a small statue from the table next to him over. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale looked clearly alarmed at this, his eyes flickering to the books, making a slightly annoyed expression, raising an eyebrow at him, until Crowley sighed and put it back upright.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We… We can’t do this while drunk, we need to sober up.” Aziraphale said, rubbing his temple.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The angel was met with loud booing from two demons, before Shane miracled in another bottle of wine, which was met with cheering from Crowley. “WOOP!” He yelled wriggling in his seat like a happy snake, pouring himself another glass, in which his hip knocked over some of Aziraphale’s books. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale, in a panic, rushed to fix it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The difference between Crowley’s black wings and Shane’s black wings is that Shane’s was smaller in size, more brownish-black in color, and claws protruding at both wing’s polexes. Though Crowley could glide much more easily, Shane liked the fact that his wings allowed for much more grace and agility. Aziraphale at the moment didn’t care too much about wings, and instead sobered himself up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sighed as Crowley went on another tangent about animals.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This only proves the Almighty’s infallible unrelenting mercy.” Aziraphale chuckled, in the middle of the two’s conversation. “Had there been any god slightly less merciful, you two would have been incinerated as soon as this conversation derailed.” Aziraphale said to himself lightly, before gently tapping Crowley’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s go dear. Will you two please sober up?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Crowley paused. “...Yeah I’m- I’m gonna have a hangover.” He muttered in a slur, before quickly sobering up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shane followed suit not long after, stretching as Aziraphale kindly pointed him in the direction of the guest room. The entire house smelled so… comfortable. It smelled ancient, but it smelled like a home. Not his, but the comfort of other people in this house left a warm feeling in the air. He got into the bed, careful to put the light sheets around his wounded wings. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Though he was slightly de-powered at the moment because of the monumental blow to his wings, he tried to feel for Ryan. His friend. He could always pick up at least his general area. He could always feel where he was. But.. no. He tried to ignore the alarm bells in his head, as he forced himself to drift off to sleep. But no, the enigma that was his mind refused to let him count sheep.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was gone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ryan was gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. do not look for me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Shane woke up, the sheets on his guest bed messily splattered against his legs, his eyes squinting at the ceiling above him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ryan. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ryan. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Where the hell was he?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> He let himself get up, gently patting his wing as a reminder of last night. It still felt painful to touch them, and looking at them now made him realize the damage done to him. Feathers were torn out in random places, leaving large bald spots on his wings, showing the dark black hell-like leather underneath the fluffy feathers. Most of his primary feathers were torn right out, making him unable to fly for a couple of years. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shane mentally winced. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That must’ve been a neat sight for Aziraphale and Crowley to see in the middle of the night.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He audibly groaned. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Humiliating.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shane? Are you awake?” He heard through the door, followed by a soft knock. The voice sounded very distinctly posh, something he very quickly recognized as Aziraphale. “There’s ...something for you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His void-like charcoal black eyes widened as he got up with a hop, still in the clothes, he was wearing last night. He never bothered changing out. It’s not like he really needed to anyway. He unlocked the door and headed outside, giving a lazy half-smile to Aziraphale as his hands remained in his pockets. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So? What is it?” Shane questioned, walking with Aziraphale downstairs. He silently hoped it’d been from Ryan, or- someone. Something- Anything so he knew the guy was at least safe, and not dead. Though, Aziraphale looked worried, for some reason, and that greatly concerned him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He could feel his smile waver as Aziraphale took a few moments to respond.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A box. I’m not sure what it is, really…” He gave a side-eyed glance to the package on the table. “But, it does seem rather dangerous. I can feel it. It feels like… well… powerful. Please stay safe, as I always say.” He said, gently, giving a fretful but genuine smile as Shane took a step towards the box. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What the angel said was a complete understatement. Something from it radiated through the measly cardboard box. Something powerful, he couldn’t even put into words. Something so powerful, he couldn’t even tell if it was good or bad. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He now understood why he seemed so nervous about the package being delivered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry about you getting involved.” Shane said quietly, his smile faded from his expression. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, don’t apologize. You have enough on your plate, you deserve some help. Crowley and I have our own side too, you know? Against heaven and hell? I believe you’re going through the same as we did.” He said, nodding as he spoke. “If there’s anything you need from us, we will do it, alright?” He said, looking at Shane.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yep. Alright.” He said, turning his attention back to the box. He put his hands on its sides, before flicking a letter opener, smoothly grabbed from his desk. “Where’s Crowley?” Shane asked, looking over his shoulder at the British man behind him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale gave a soft puff, looking to the side as if thinking. Poor plants. “It’s Thursday.” He said as if it was the answer to everything. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shane decided not to question it, flipping the letter opener in his hand, before slowly cutting into the tape of the box, being careful not to disturb the contents inside. As he slowly opened the flaps, a familiar scent lingered in the air. That fear… mixed with bravery. Courage. Hints of panic and jittery anxiety, but mixed with stubborn audacity. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He knew who it was.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...Ryan.” He whispered, before quickly and messily tearing open the box. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale blinked and perked behind him, trying to look over his shoulder in curiosity of his concerned but eager reaction.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The blood was the first thing he noticed. Blood sprayed on the inside of the box, not a lot, but enough to get the message across. Oddly enough, the blood didn’t seem to be Ryan’s, instead, a poor pig’s but Shane didn’t concern himself with that, looking at the foregin but powerful protective markings written in blood at the bottom, littered with different herbs and sprayed messily with moon water. He didn’t understand what it meant, but he was sure it was human magic. When did Ryan do human magic? He’s been gone for a couple of months, so he probably picked it up. He seemed to be a natural. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Humans. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Too smart. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Though… His eyes flickered curiously to the item at the center. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His spirit box. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Even though it was now lightly covered in blood, the small spirit box seemed to be emanating something it didn’t have before. Something he didn’t completely understand. He lifted the device from the package, checking it out, and attached to the bottom of the spirit box was a surprisingly clean orange sticky note. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shane’s eyes widened as he read the contents.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dear Shane.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck fuck fuck fuck dude okay. I need you to do something for me, wherever you are. Keep this safe. The spirit box. Just stay away from me, I don’t want you getting hurt. I know you’re back and you probably want to meet up, but a lot of shit happened and I don’t know if I can just bullshit out of it this time. Just keep this safe, make sure no one gets this. It’s very important. Do NOT look for me.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>...What the hell happened?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shane?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He let out an absent hum in reply, his back still turned to Aziraphale, who looked deeply concerned for his new friend. He felt a hollow sensation wash over him, something that felt familiar when he was ghost hunting with Ryan. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ryan. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ryan. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Except now, the numbness felt a lot more bitter. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Venomous. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All prior fun-loving facial expressions faded from his face. Deep in his dissociative state, he didn’t notice the angel carefully walk next to him.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s going to be alright.” Aziraphale said, very quietly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shane didn’t respond, his blank stare bubbling with seething rage underneath his surface. He didn’t move as Aziraphale put a gentle hand on his shoulder, rubbing it carefully. Shane looked numb.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That is, before a spirit suddenly shot up from the cardboard box, screaming a torrent of curses.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“IPSE EST, SICUT EGO SUM. HOMO NON EST, QUI IPSE EST. IPSE EST, SICUT EGO SUM. HOMO NON EST, QUI IPSE EST. IPSE EST, SICUT EGO SUM. HOMO NON EST, QUI IPSE EST-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shane shoved Aziraphale violently out of the way, as the spirit went crashing through the bookshop, holes where it’s eyes should be. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They both fell to the ground, crouching behind a couch.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bones contorting in every which way, looking inhuman. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Distorted. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Broken. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A shard of what was once someone else.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>By how pale Aziraphale looked, he guessed he had never seen a ghost before.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As soon as Aziraphale was about to get up, mere milliseconds later at the sounds of his books crashing to the ground, looking deathly protective of his books, Shane held up his hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They’re human souls. We can’t hurt them.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale’s eyes widened as Shane jumped up, racing to the front of the store with a sly grin, with the tenacity and stupidity of a rogue bull.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“HEY GHOULS! IT’S ME, YA BOY-” He yelled tauntingly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What are you doing- For heaven’s sake-” Aziraphale loudly whispered out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The spirit violently charged towards Shane, slamming his back against the wall with the force of a truck, resulting in a grinding, loud cracking sound. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shane screamed hoarsely, further injuring his wings, but still retained that sheer dumbass energy of his. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“SALT WATER, GET SALT WATER-” He yelled out, trying to hold his ground with a letter opener. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“C’MON IS THAT ALL YOU GOT? TUSSLE MY HAIR, THROW ME THROUGH THE WINDOW-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’d miracle it up himself, but clearly by the state of his wings, he wasn’t able to do so.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was something about this spirit. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Something about the way they hesitated.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The anger and hatred, betrayed by a sad glint in the holes of what once was their eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>By the time Aziraphale fiddled up a bottle of salt water, they slashed at Shane’s exposed wing, making him scream in agony further, still somehow managing to hold onto a cocky grin. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With a single hard spray of salt water, it was like it never happened.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Within seconds, the creature dissolved, giving a softened glance before disappearing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shane slumped down the wall, leaving a trail of silver against the paint, bleeding and panting as the letter opener he held in his one hand dropped to the floor, the metal clattering against the hardwood. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh- Oh dear- I’m so sorry- I-” Aziraphale repeatedly apologized, looking at his wings, clearly panicked and distraught. Shane didn’t have the energy to reply, though he was left with a wanting to console the poor angel that this wasn’t his fault.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> Aziraphale ran off to his phone quickly, running in such an awkward way that made Shane tiredly snicker, quickly calling Crowley.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now that the adrenaline slowly died down, he could very clearly feel the painful pulsing in his wings. Waves of pain, each as bad as the last, came shuddering throughout his wings, originating in the wounds. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale quickly went to his side, helping him up, which made him hiss in pain. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The angel led him to a stool.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Would you like anything? It’s the least I could do. I should… I should have helped much sooner.” He said, softly and with a small smile, though the concern was still blatantly written on his face. His eyes kept gravitating towards Shane’s injured wings, staring for a long moment with a frown before abruptly realizing what he was doing and looked back at him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shane was amused at this.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Trust me, I’m fine. I’m used to this stuff, no big deal.” He lied through his teeth, trying his best to seem visibly unruffled and casual. You could never get used to pain, as hard as you tried. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It seemed Aziraphale knew this too, as he gave a concerned look, before slowly making his way towards the box. Shane tensed, before relaxing slightly as he pulled out the spirit box, quickly folding the cardboard box, tossing it outside and lighting it on fire with a snap.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He handed it to Shane, giving a soft smile. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This is yours.” He said, before sitting down at the chair in front of him. He looked… unsettled. “...What exactly happened? I’d never seen anything quite like that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shane shrugged. “Ghouls. Ghosts aren’t usually like that, though. They’re usually more- cowardly. Hah, wimps.” He muttered, before pausing, feeling the warm blood drip from his wing. He cleared his throat. “I think a demon tampered with the package. Maybe they cursed the box, and attached a spirit to it? They probably forced them to attack me.” He said, casually.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale seemed to take in the information, his eyes searching the ground, before Crowley burst in, immediately going to Aziraphale’s side, then checking over Shane. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As soon as his eyes landed on his wing, they widened, and he subconsciously took a step back from the sight, his eyebrows sharply raised in shock. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A moment of silence lapsed before Crowley rolled up his leather jacket sleeves, putting his hands as softly as he could on Shane’s wings. “...Well, that sure is something.” Crowley said in a low voice, over his shoulder, a hint of a tone of slight remorse in it. Shane snorted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You could say that again.” Shane said in a whisper, as Crowley did his best to heal his wings. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Healing couldn’t fix everything, a thin but noticeable line was left on where the spirit tore his wing, but the bleeding stopped. Crowley slowly removed his hands. Only trace amounts of silver splattered his wings, and he stretched a little, feeling all the little injuries Crowley couldn’t heal on his wings and his back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t tell me an angel did this to you. Sociopaths, the lot of them. Oh, those bastards are always out to cause trouble for us, hell, they claim they’re the good guys, and they don’t discriminate until it’s someone they discriminate against, like Aziraph-” Crowley hissed out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Crowley, it was a demon. A rather mean one.” Aziraphale chimed in, visibly uncomfortable at Crowley’s talk on angels.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Crowley paused for a moment, his eyes lingering on Aziraphale as if acknowledging his feelings before frowning apologetically. “Sorry.” He said, in a mutter, but it did seem genuine. He looked at Shane. “Who did this then? The demon? You know them?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shane paused for a moment, touching his wing, before shaking his head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nope, but I think they know me.” He said, oddly laid-back. He looked sullen, a little older than he did yesterday, his mind constantly wandering to Ryan. He felt the weight of the spirit box in his hand, constantly looking back at the note. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Why didn’t he want to see him? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What happened? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Crowley looked to Aziraphale, crossing his arms. “Well, we should probably work on that, right?”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>hey boys, it's me ya demon</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. where am i</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Do you like your eggs scrambled, or sunny side up?” Aziraphale asked Shane politely, who was sitting at the kitchen table. The entire bookshop smelled ancient, celestial, more so in the kitchen, though it was filled with human commodities. Anyone from heaven or hell could come in here and assume a human lived here. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Crowley sat at the table too, his arm comfortably strung over the back of the seat, his entire body taking the chair seat. Shane found it funny to see the man struggle to find a comfortable position, which always ended up him subconsciously taking up the most space.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The tension died down slowly from the spirit incident, a few hours have passed since it happened, but tension still lingered in the corners of the rooms, never seeming to falter, like pests. Aziraphale seemed especially shaken from the spirit, and Crowley seemed shaken that he was shaken. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Even though it was tense, he was glad that both Crowley and Aziraphale promised to use the trace amounts of whatever energy was on the box to help track down Ryan. Shane still held the spirit box in his front pants pocket, after unsuccessfully being able to fit it in his Hawaiian shirt pocket, much to his disappointment. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shaken, not stirred.” Shane replied, jokingly, not paying too much attention. Aziraphale seemed extremely perplexed by his request to have his eggs shaken, but he did so anyway, chalking it up to an ‘American thing’, shaking it in a stainless steel cocktail shaker.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shane burst out in a wheezing fit of laughter, having to get up to stop him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“PFF- It- It was a reference to a movie-” He explained in between breaths. Being younger, he called himself the more pop-culture savvy of the three, but Crowley was actually howling with laughter, seeming to understand his light joke. It seemed just Aziraphale was a bit behind the times. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale was getting exceedingly flustered at the sound of everyone’s laughter, wearing an annoyed expression, no matter how hard Crowley tried to console him through wheezing breaths. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Angel-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I will leave! I will leave this kitchen! Stop laughing!” Aziraphale said, embarrassed but, his face red, taking a minute before dramatically crossing his arms, turning his back and walking out of the kitchen. Crowley couldn’t help but laugh louder, sounding like choked cackling before he got up and ran after him, still retaining that slithering strut he always had, his smile stuck on his face. “AZIRAPHALE! ANGEL I’M SORRY, COME BACK! I’m blaming you for thiss, Madej-” He said with a slight lisp (or was that a hiss?), without a hint of malice in his tone, pointing a finger, struggling to stop laughing, before running off to chase Aziraphale.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shane seemed a bit shocked, being called by his real name, snapping back to reality. “It’s Shane, dude!” He yelled back with a smirk, correcting him, just a bit too late. He looked over at the stove, feeling a little bad for Aziraphale now that the laughter died down. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The room was filled with a silence it didn’t have when Crowley and Aziraphale were here, and now all that was left was his thoughts. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ryan.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He felt the warm sticky note in his hand, looking at it over with his jovial grin faded, his eyes barely rereading the words. He’d already memorized it. He looked for any clue, any sign that Ryan left </span>
  <em>
    <span>something, </span>
  </em>
  <span>so that Shane would at least know where he was. He felt like he was dying- no, he’d much rather feel like he was dying than experience this. This- this sense of uncertainty was worse than torture for him. He liked this human. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He tucked it carefully back into his shirt pocket, looking over at the eggs Aziraphale was making, pausing for a long moment before getting up to continue cooking for him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was the least he could do anyways.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He put the finished sunny side eggs aside, buttering it before pouring the contents of the shaker onto the iron pan, humming a little tune as he cooked. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He thought about what the spirit said in Latin. </span>
  <em>
    <span>HE IS, AS I AM. THE MAN IS NOT WHO HE IS. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He could hear their scream ring loudly and clearly in his head, so much so he could have sworn he heard it himself. Cryptic. Intriguing. Kinda cool, to be honest. He had no idea what to make of it, who ‘he’ was. Maybe they were talking about Ryan? Then… why were they talking about some other third person? This ‘man.’ </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was pretty weird, if he was being completely honest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale and Crowley walked back into the kitchen, at a slow pace, Aziraphale oddly taking the lead. It seemed the two made up, Aziraphale looking like he was in a much better mood. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looked at the eggs, then at Shane, who was just finishing up putting the scrambled eggs on a plate. He gave a wave to the two with the spatula, to which Aziraphale gave a soft smile, and an approving sound. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh,</span>
  <em>
    <span> thank you</span>
  </em>
  <span>. That really is sweet of you, Shane.” He said, putting a delicate hand on his shoulder, kindly and gently, words he’d really expect only from a human. Not many celestial beings, other than the ones on Earth, angel or demon, showed genuine kindness. He appreciated it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shane chuckled quietly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No prob, bob. You know, eggs are my specialty. One of the only things I can </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually </span>
  </em>
  <span>cook.” He said. “I’m amazingly bad at cooking. I swear if you give me a pot of water, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>will </span>
  </em>
  <span>burn it. I’ll burn the water, Az. Don’t test me. I don’t wanna to burn down your bookstore.” He snickered at his own joke, and Aziraphale chuckled lightly at that, bringing the eggs to the table. Crowley seemed to get slightly but nearly unnoticeably pale, a little more fidgety than normal at Shane’s joke. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shane took a mental note of this.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know-” Aziraphale started with a small smile, before stopping, catching Crowley’s eyes, thinking better of it. He put forks, garnishing the eggs with some parsley. “...A lot of modern buildings these days are fireproof. Even the carpets. It’s quite extraordinary, isn't it? I wonder what humans will come up with next, they truly never cease to amaze me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shane looked at Crowley, eating his eggs with a smirk. “Wait ‘till he hears about Google Home.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The three talked comfortably, Shane informing the two of humanities latest inventions. VR, Pepper, home security cameras like Ring, everything he could name. He prided himself to stay relevant tech-wise, since his ghost hunting and Buzzfeed job called for it, but reading up online on new inventions made him really appreciate humanity’s ingenuity. Crowley knew some of the stuff he spoke of, but didn’t know the majority, and Aziraphale didn’t know any of it at all. They both seemed somewhat shocked of humanity’s true genius. Crowley seemed especially interested when Shane talked about self-driving cars.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>kidding</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Crowley said, clearly enthused, leaning forward in his seat, before leaning back, slinging his arm back over his chair. “Nothing’ll beat my Bentley, but frankly that sounds impossible.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, no- told you guys, they evolve so quickly. They never stop, do they? I actually rode in one, once, in ...New York I think? The car ride was so </span>
  <em>
    <span>smooth</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He said, finishing up his eggs, putting his plate in the sink. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As the conversation finished up, he was surprised to see that Aziraphale stayed behind, gently pushing him aside from the dirty plates. “Let me do it.” He said softly, before miracling the dishes clean. He didn’t realize he felt slightly uneasy, having Aziraphale stand behind him until the moment passed. He didn’t like how he wasn’t able to miracle up things for now, with his injured wings. He was really good at it too, his imaginative mind came in handy for that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, man.” Shane rocked on his heels, whistling as he looked around, before looking back at Aziraphale. “So… what do you need?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I just wanted to check in.” He said, lightly. “You know dear, you’ve ...gone off to hell for months, and now- now some </span>
  <em>
    <span>monster’s </span>
  </em>
  <span>gone off and attacked you. I know we barely know one another, but I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shane paused for a moment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I’m fine.” He said, waving it off casually, somewhat uncomfortable. “Torture happens all the time in hell. By all the time I mean </span>
  <em>
    <span>all the time. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It’s just kinda a thing you gotta get used to. It’s like stubbing your toe- or cutting yourself while shaving. I’m just more worried about Ryan. Humans being mortals and all.” He explained. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Crowley never got tortured.” Aziraphale said. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Well, not any torture that he was aware of.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, he also never was an ex-duke.” Shane retorted with a comedic tone to it, but something about his words seemed a bit sharper than usual, even though nothing about his voice changed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dear-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine, Aziraphale.” He didn’t mean to sound exhausted, but a bit of that tone slipped out of him, and this made Aziraphale pause for a moment, his eyes searching Shane’s before he gave a small sigh.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...Oh, alright then. If you need to talk to anyone, I’m always in the next room.” He said, a bit more quieter than he did, but just as genuine.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t understand why he got defensive over it. He didn’t like how he sounded so exhausted by the end of it. He didn’t fully understand himself, but he was sure that he was fine. Right? I mean, he’d at least notice when he wasn’t fine. He knew turning off knobs of emotion like switches wasn’t what was considered healthy by human standards, but he’d genuinely been completely okay. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wished he could miracle up some weed for himself, to self-medicate, or some cough syrup at least, but it’d seem too weird to ask Crowley or Aziraphale. </span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span> He laid awake in his bed, lying straight up. Though this caused his wings to feel sore, he didn’t mind too much. He’d never admit it to Ryan, but he was worried. Very worried. If he was okay, maybe the dude would at least send a memo or something, anything, to know he was at least alright, but the note he left told him anything but. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He let out a sigh, sounding much more like a tired groan as he rolled over in his guest bed, ruffling the sheets. He looked at the note, feeling a tang of sadness wash over him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>God, life wasn’t easy, was it? It never was.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He muttered a curse under his breath, and half-expected Aziraphale to correct him down the hall. He reread the note, a wave of feelings he didn’t know what to do with flooding his body. Anger. Frustration. Annoyance. Sadness. He didn’t know. He was stuck at a complete dead end. He wanted this to be over, and just wake up, in </span>
  <em>
    <span>his </span>
  </em>
  <span>bed, in </span>
  <em>
    <span>his </span>
  </em>
  <span>house. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wanted things to go back to normal.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looked at the sticky note with a darkness spreading across his facial expression, his void-like eyes hollow and angry as he tightened his grip. Why didn’t he tell him anything? Why didn’t he tell him if he was okay or not? His frustration seemed to bubble under his skin as he gripped the sticky note. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The air was cold, and thin, and the candle lights seemed to flicker as he stared at the note with an intensity of a serial killer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His smile faded into a thin straight line across his face, before he did something he didn’t completely understand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He burned the note. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Using hellfire, the note burned in his hand, the air smelling of ash. His hands were dusted with the paper’s ashes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Still, the frustration remained, it never fully went away. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But, as his eyes laid back on the paper, he blinked, watching something spell out of the paper, from the fire.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>140 Lairg Road.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And in that moment, he felt like screaming.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He burst downstairs, intensely, which caused Aziraphale to flinch, and he stumbled down, holding the burnt, no longer burning sticky note in his hands, waving it like a madman. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“THERE- THERE’S AN ADDRESS!” He screamed with extreme intensity, all remnants of his dark stare completely gone off his face. Crowley immediately got up, walking towards him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He handed him the burnt note, panting silently, the wide genuine smile stuck on his face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He- He’s there- He’s fucking there-” He pointed at the address to which Crowley’s eyes widened. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well. Didn’t he tell you not to follow him?” He said, raising an eyebrow at Shane. “Why would he give it to you now? Before you have your... feathers vaguely ruffled- Are you sure that’s even a good idea?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shane shrugged casually, visibly getting slightly frustrated that Crowley and Aziraphale didn’t seem as enthused as he did. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dude, I found Ryan- we need to go.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, we aren’t going, we aren’t risking everything and charging in blindly like you do-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Seriously-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You aren’t going to be to blame if we wait a little for your friend. We need a plan. Whoever wrote that, which I assure you </span>
  <em>
    <span>isn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>your friend, is dangerous. I smelt the energy from the box the moment I walked in. You have some powerful enemies, Madej-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s Shane</span>
  <em>
    <span>. Shane. </span>
  </em>
  <span>How hard is that? And he sounded like shit in his note. He could be bleeding out for all we know. Those guys in hell, they don’t play around, and- it’s... my fault I got him involved in this little fiasco in the first place.” His voice seemed to trail off as he lost some of his intensity, before quickly regaining it as his eyes shot up to Crowley, who was getting fidgety and uneasy, feeling the pressure of his fierce stare. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shane’s eyes reminded Crowley of Hastur’s, except Shane’s was just a dark void, no light escaping his gaze. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I owe him one. I owe him </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span>. If you’re not gonna let me cash in a favor for a friend,</span>
  <em>
    <span> I’m sure as hell not going to listen</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He barely realized his voice lowered to a terrifying purr, a deep bass-y growl, sounding nearly inhuman until Aziraphale stepped in between the two, holding out a hand, trying to stop the sudden tension. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stop it. Both of you.” Aziraphale said gently, his tone as proper and light as it always had been, but Aziraphale’s hardened expression made Shane pause, the tension in his shoulders dropping. Aziraphale had no intention of joining in on the argument, but still held his hand out between the two demons. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t enjoy fighting in my bookshop. I wouldn’t like for you two hurting each other, you two are much better than this. Though… my dear boy-” He let out a soft sigh, looking at Shane, his voice lowering. “Crowley is right. We can’t- we can’t charge in blindly. I know your human- your </span>
  <em>
    <span>friend</span>
  </em>
  <span> is rather important to you, but we mustn't lose ourselves to impulse. You wouldn’t want to walk right into a trap, now would you?” Aziraphale said, looking at Shane.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shane fell silent, before idly shaking his head. “...It’s not fair.” He said quietly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale had an unreadable expression cross his face, the room going silent.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just then, someone knocked on the door.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>ooOoo</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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